


We met in the apocalypse

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Barduil - Freeform, Because of Reasons, I made Legolas more or less the same age as Sigrid, Jaegers (Pacific Rim), Kaiju (Pacific Rim), M/M, Middle Earth setting, Modern Middle Earth, Pacific Rim AU, SO, a bunch of thranduil angst because i'm trash, barduil pacific rim au, but also electricity and stuff like that, but modern au, governments instead of royalty or with royalty, half blind Thranduil, kids being nice and friends, lost of angst, man bun Bard, scarred!Thranduil, so you've got the cities and elves and whatnot, that kind of thing, that sort of thing, this is the main thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:29:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3771715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barduil Pacific Rim au.<br/>Middle earth is riddled with monsters, kaijus, that rise up from below the surface. The Jaeger program has been a solution to this problem for some time. Thranduil used to be a pilot until he lost his wife and half his sight in battle. Bard is a mechanic who simply wants his children to live in a safe world, without fear. In the midst of hell, they find each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The story of the kaijus, the Jaegers and The Elvenking of Mirkwood

All of middle earth had been plagued with Kaijus since that terrible summer day where the first one appeared in Laketown. An enormous monster of no known species with a remarkable appetite for destruction. And it had had appeared from a rim in the lake, from inside the earth. No one had been able to kill it and roamed the area for weeks, also destroying part of Dale in the process. 

It was chaos and death and absolute fear. 

The inhabitants hoped it was an isolated incident, something that just happened once, in that place. The breach was sealed and people were hopeful that it wouldn't happen again. No such luck. 

The attacks continued, all over the world. The monsters became bigger and meaner, more powerful. Their claws were sharper, their teeth even more deadly. There were too many of them and all of them were set out to destroy whatever they found in their path. The sealed breaches opened again and the monsters started appearing from almost everywhere, lakes, rivers, oceans, volcanoes, even peaceful meadows. No place was safe. Every day, everywhere, you were in danger. And they destroyed faster than anything could be rebuilt so a lot of people had become refugees, nomads or poachers. The quality of life had decreased incredibly. 

There were many attempts to kill them, scientific investigations and all sorts of new weaponry built to kill them as fast and efficiently as possible, to minimise the damage. Wizards were used, antique and powerful swords, elven chanting and magic, a myriad of poisons and electromagnetic pulses. But the Kaijus' incredible size posed a problem for the people trying to kill them, an incredible problem. They were ridiculously tiny compared to them. Useless.

They needed something bigger and stronger to wield the weapons they had made, something that could effectively fight and take down one of those giant monsters. So there was an idea, crazy as it sounded, to build giant robots of the size of the kaijus to battle those creatures. The engineering wasn't easy and each of these robots (called Jaegers) took a lot of resources but still, they were done.

The problem was how to control them, how to pilot them. Because of their massive size, it was extremely difficult for one person to control the Jaeger. Tests were done with almost any inhabitant, with men and dwarves and even hobbits. The Elves could handle it a bit better, but still, not good enough to last an entire battle without passing out. So one of the heads of the program thought about using two pilots for each Jaeger, and that idea was a roaring success.

The two pilots were connected two each other through a mental connection, “the drift”, and with their combined limbs an psyches they could handle the robot in ways no one else could. Of course, to do this, they had to be compatible, which wasn't easy. Drift compatibility was a very valued thing to have, and a lot of people had the tests done to see if they were. (When loving marriages or family weren't, it came as a bit of shock, it even caused some couples to split)

The Jaeger program became one of most triumphant efforts there were and piloting was regarded an honorable and noble job – specially considering that a lot of pilots didn't make it home. Regardless, Jaegers were their most effective defense against this monsters that didn't cease to appear, and there was no shortage of brave people who signed up to be pilots and were assigned a Jaeger.

There was an abundance of elves and men among the pilots, but also a number of dwarves and hobbits, and each of them have a type of skill different to the other, and a robot with characteristics and a name they chose, to work better. They had to be one, not just the two pilots, but the pilots and their Jaeger. There had been cases of people who were drift compatible but never piloted because they didn't find an appropiate Jaeger in which they could fight, although they were the exception. Most people found a robot that suited their needs, others had it made (if they were lucky).

The headquarters of the Jaeger program were in an isolated mega building far from any town, called the Shatterdome. That was where most of the Jaegers were stored, where pilots, trained and drifted, where the action happened. It was where techies and the scientists worked too. (And they should not be forgotten them, because without them the program but have never been able to function like it did.) 

Everything was coordinated and directed by a former pilot, Marshall Galadriel Lorien, a scary and extraordinarily intelligent woman. (Someone you didn't want to mess with). While she had a calm and often kind exterior, if she got angry she could become the most creature of all that huge building. She was also a gifted leader, helpful and good at guiding others – and an unparalleled judge of other characters. Often quiet or in the shadows, she remained a constant presence that reassurance everyone that everything would go smoothly. 

And then, after the techies, scientists and bosses you had the stars of the show: the pilots with their Jaegers. They were the beacon of hope of th normal people, there were posters made with their faces and their jaegers, some even had fanclubs. These pilots risked their lives everytime they got in there, theirs and that of the person they appreciated most, and were rewarded maybe not with a lot of riches, but with respect, admiration and general praise. (There were even magazines “Jaeger pilot monthly” and that kind of thing – this was where the posters and merchandising originated, and had sparked a thriving industry).

One of the most peculiar couples that piloted was that formed by Thorin Oakenshield, a dwarf from a long-way-back notorious family of Erebor and Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End, a simple Hobbit from the Shire, tiny and generally peaceful. Unusual a match as they were, their mutual affection and love of adventures made them a force to be reckoned with. They piloted a big blue thing called the Acorn of the Dwarves with enthusiasm and energy. Thorin and Bilbo claimed to be “just friends” but they weren't fooling anyone, except, perhaps, themselves.

Thorin's young and fun loving nephews, Fili and Kili, were the stars of many of the posters and propaganda/merchandising items. Good-looking, brave, and with a penchant to do outrageous declarations, they were every young girl's fream. They piloted something almost as ugly as the Acorn, called the Durin Menace, that had a lot of hidden compartment that threw knives and arrows. (Let's admit it, they were slightly show-off-ish.)

But the best weapon they had, the most efficient and deadly of them all, was the Elvenking of Mirkwood. A great silver Jaeger that was just in itself an incredible wonder. As beautiful as an enormous robot could be, the Elvenking seemed light, flawless, ethereal. But beyond its seemigly otherworldly beauty, it was an incredibly complex machine, with thousands of little gadgets and levers – something that seemed cold and unusable from the distance but when one got closer i was obvious that it was full of layers and new surprised, that took the Kaijus unawares. 

The same could be said for the elves that piloted the Elvenking. Cold and distant from the outside, they were in reality creautres that felt everything very deeply – and what they felt above everything, despite their icy exterior, was love. Love for each other and love for their only son, a young boy who played happily in the shatterdome. Thranduil Oropherion and his wife, nicknamed “the royals” they were every bit deadly as they were beautiful, and although the rest of people didn't like them much (The dwarves especially disliked them, to an almost hateful extent in the case of Thorin) they were the shatterdome's best asset and their talent was recognised.  
It wasn't simply the fact that they they never lost or that their Jaeger had hardly a dent after all those battles, but the fact that they could finish things in a quick, clean and graceful manner. No matter how much they hated the pilots, when the Elvenking went into battle everyone watched the fight, because it was a joy and a privilege to watch. Many other pilots had tried to imitate their moves, but they were simply not graceful enough, not agile enough. Their movements flowed almost like some sort of river and the Elvenking made movements no metal thing that size was supposed to do. 

Sometimes, it felt as if with the Elvenking on their side, the fight was almost won.

But all good things come to an end, and the Elvenking's great amount of victories came to an abrupt and tragic end when they were called to fight in the sea. The kaiju had appeared relatively close to a sailors' town and, as they were free, the royals offered to go. They were confident as ever, not knowing the doom that awaited them. 

Little is known of that day. The pilots were watching the fight in the shatterdome when suddenly the connection was lost. No image, no sound, nothing. They tried to establish communication with them and were met only with radio silence. It was particularly scary because the pilots of the Elvenking were meticulous about maintaining contact. Something bad needed to have happened for them not to answer. 

Galadriel ordered a rescue team to be sent to their last known location, but it was even worse than anticipated. They found the Elvenking a leg short and empty. Where the pilots should have been, only blood was left, and a startling amount of it. They searched the surrounding area and didn't find either of the pilots. Expanding the search, the rescue team found an enormous pool of blood in the sea and an elf in the middle of it. 

It was Thranduil. He had lost half of his face (there was only scar tissue and tendons left) and the vision in one of his eyes. All that side of his body bore a long bloody gash and it was nothing short of a miracle that he hadn't bled out in the sea. He spent six months unconscious, and when he woke up, he couldn't remember what had happened that day. He asked about his wife but no one could give him a good answer. She'd been lost at sea. 

Forever. 

No one thought Thranduil would ever go back to piloting, much less himself. He recluded himself in his quarters and became a sort of right hand man for Galadriel, a silent second-in-command. He enjoyed his son. He enjoyed his wine. And he never, ever, spoke about that day. He didn't speak of her, no, but he had nightmares, and he was loud. 

And other pilots tried to make use of the Elvenking after it was repaired, but they were useless in it. It was too complicated, it was too big and trick for a normal person to be able to handle all that it was, all that it had. So they didn't have the pilots and they have the Jaeger, not really not being able to use it. 

Maybe Galadriel could have managed to work it, but she hadn't piloted in a long time either. No one knew exacly why, and no one dared to ask. Galadriel's secrets were hers. Maybe that was why she had supported Thranduil when he had decided not to pilot again and had offered him a post by her side. Maybe. Who knew.

Thranduil became little more than a ghost in the shatterdome. Stories of him were heard, rumours of what he was doing from his quarters. His scars were exaggerated, everything was exaggerated until they made him sound almost like a monster, cold, heartless and disfigured. A hostile environment to which he was in no hurry to go back. 

The people in the shatterdome never thought they would see The Elvenking fight again.

Thranduil never thought he would drift again.

Until Bard asked him to.


	2. Bowman's tale

Bard was a survivor, he had always been. Born to a disgraced family of the village of Laketown, Bard had done all sorts of jobs since he was very young. He had worked at factories, he'd been a courier, he'd worked on a boat and on a train station, he'd done a lot of things – often underpaid, minial things. But that was not important. 

He had a wife he loved, a couple of beautiful kids, he didn't need anything else. They were all the wealth he could aspire to have. So sure, he would like to have a better place for his family, but he wasn't overly ambitious. He had all that he needed. There were some years of pure domestic bliss, watching the children grow.

But good things never last, do they? Some years later later Bard's wife died after giving birth to their second daughter, and he was left alone with three young children. It was a difficult blow, and the first couple of years Bard had to remind himself that she wasn't there anymore. That she would never be there – ever again. That she wouldn't see the kids grow, that she wouldn't get to know Tilda. It was hard, and although time made the pain fade a bit, it was still there. Always there.

Still, Bard tried to get a decent life for the kids. Got as many jobs as possible, mostly as a mechanic or fixing things so that the kids would always have what they needed. It wasn't the easiest of lives, but at least they had each other, a nice house and many plans for the future. But then that was stolen from them as well.

Bard would never forget the night that monster came out of the lake, an split their town, tore it to pieces. He would never forget the fearful expression in his children's eyes, their screams and how they had to run and leave everything. Bard would never forget seeing the ruins of his town, the town where he grew up, where his family was from, the town where he'd fallen in love and created a family. 

Now it was gone, forever, and no other town was safe. At any given moment, another one of those kaijus could rip out the floor of even the safest of towns and shatter the homes of anyone living there. Every day was a new fight, and life had become riddled with fear, insecurity and bad memories. And Bard didn't want that for his children, there was no way. 

They deserved freedom to roam around the world, the deserved a home, they deserved some stability. They deserved a world where they wouldn't be afraid of death at any moment, they deserved a life at least as good as the one he'd had, if not better. 

So he joined the resistance, the Jaeger program, and the kids made some friends in HQ. It wasn't terribly well paid, but at least it was a place where they could stay for a long time and a place that offered all the basic services a family like his needed. There a nice spirit of solidarity and companionship there too, it was almost hopeful. 

He came just as mechanic, in the beginning, helping out to fix Jaegers after fights, preparing them for fights, giving them check-ups. After all the time he'd spent fixing cars and heavy machinery this posed no difficulty. It was good, knowing that he was good at something that actually helped the fight. That, small as it was, he was playing a part in stopping those monsters for good, rebuilding a safer world for future generations. Besides, he worked with very nice people, and even the mighty Lady Galadriel had commended him on his work a couple of times. 

The pilots were another story, but well. They were arrogant pricks most of them, anyways. Who needed them? Not him. 

With time, he got more responsiblity, more tasks. He gave a hand in the design of the Jaeger, in the upgrades and such. Added little features to make them more effective, to make the pilots safer and their blows more deadly. He worked with an elf called Tauriel and a wizard called Gandalf. Unusual people, especially Gandalf, but not bad to work with. Tauriel helped him out with the pieces and testing the changes. He knew that she was in love with one of the pilots and kind of wanted to advice her against it, even though it wasn't his place. Pilots died and caused you pain. It was not good to be in love with a pilot. 

Some time later, and after some terrible pilot losses Galadriel suggested that he too should become a pilot. He was brave, not in bad shape and knew perfectly well how the Jaegers worked. And he was motivated enough, everybody knew what he was doing all this for. For his kids. For Sigrid, Bain and Tilda. Why he was always covered in grease from injectors, why he sketched new features in napkins while having dinner. For a new and better world. A new beginning. 

So he did some training and some tests. He was good, everyone of the bosses said so, even the other pilots could see that he was pilot material. He was fast, had great reflexes and knew how to land a blow. No, that was not the difficult part. Being a pilot was a piece of cake for Bard. Finding someone to pilot with – well, that was another thing entirely. 

No one was compatible. Some people were close, yes, but they weren't close enough. He'd thought he found someone in another of the mechanics, but when they drifted together he got overwhelmed by Bard's life, his memories. So he was out of the game. Bard feared he would never be compatible with anyone. 

“You know, there's someone who went through the same as you, losing his wife and all. Maybe you'll be compatible with him.” Tauriel said one day, while they were fixing the Durin Menace.

“What? Who are you talking about?”

“My mentor, the former pilot of the Elvenking, Thranduil.”

Ah, the royal. Bard had to admit that the Elvenking was one of his favourite Jaegers and that it was a pity that no one was using it. Such a marvelous piece of work. But he'd barely seen the royal two or three times since he'd arrived. He knew the story, and was curious about the man, but he was always locked up in his room. Thranduil had given him orders and ideas, mostly via message, but nothing else. They hadn't spoken. 

But Tauriel's idea was probably too far-fetched as they were as different as night and day. Thranduil was elegant and always perfectly clean and composed, while Bard was always Bard and his shoulder-length black hair was impossibly messy all the time. Thranduil was haughty and rich and Bard was lower class. They came from different worlds, they had different backgrounds. It just couldn't work. 

“He has a kid too, you know. Legolas. I think he's friends with your oldest kid. Nice young elf. He's the main reason why Thranduil became a pilot, why he's still there after what happened to his wife. For the boy. To end the fight so he can live in peace.”

And that was what did it for Bard. Who cared about backgrounds when they were both in that fight for the same reason? And they both lost their wives and had to carry on for the kids. Yes, it could work.


	3. First meetings

As Bard knocked on Thranduil's door that night, a shiver coursed through him. He had no idea of how much his life was going to change.

At first, no one answered. Bard just waited.

He knocked again, and then another time. Still, no one answered. This wasn't a great start.

Bard decided to go look at the Jaeger before trying to speak to the man again. He needed some time to get in the right mind set, or mantain it. This had to be done, before he lost the courage and determination, before he realised what this would entail and who he wanted to speak to. From what he'd heard of the other, Thranduil was not the easiest of people to approach. And the man had spent the last years locked up in his room, going back to the field wouldn't be probably on his mind, so Bard needed to be confident, articulate and convincing.

He wanted to do this, he really did. He wanted to fight inside that Jaeger, make a change, help to end this hell. And the Elvenking was the perfect weapon to actually make a difference. It was huge and silvery but somehow seemed lighter than other Jaegers, less heavy. There had to be some leven magic intertwined in that, because the Elvenking was something beyond what men could build, beyond what men could even imagine. The lines were delicate and soft. It was strangely... pretty. Much like the Elves he's met, Bard thought. Pretty, but definitely dangerous. The Elvenking of Mirkwood, pride of the resistance, now abandoned and getting rusty. Such a pity, really. 

But, despite almost every pilot giving it a try, no one could use it. I could be a thousand years old and not understand how that thing goes, they would say. The Elvenking had too many little levers, too many little things to make it work. Of course, this meant that it had many more features and tricks than a regular Jaeger, and it finished fights in mere minutes. It was a true weapon, but to be able to use it you had to move and think with a certain grace, a certain flow, something not even the most skilled elves could achieve. Because it wasn't about practice, or skill – it was about understanding it. 

And nobody but Thranduil understood the Elvenking.

Maybe it was arrogant of him to think that he would, that he could succeed where the rest of them had failed. After the first big obstacle, which would convincing the pilot himself, there would come the matter of the Jaeger. Getting to know it, getting to control it. Trying to understand so that when they found themselves inevitably in a crisis, the machine would help. 

But first, he needed Thranduil. He knocked again, and this time, someone answered. 

“Who is it?” A low voice said.

“Bard... Bowman. The mechanic from Laketown, we've sent each other some messages about layouts and improvements and..., other things.”

Don't panic, Bard. You've got this.

“What do you want?” Thranduil's voice said, from the other side of the door. He apparently didn't even want to the door and greet him.

“Can I come in?”

There was a pause. Bard knew that Thranduil didn't like people coming into his quarters unannounced. He started to get even more nervous- how was any of this a good idea?

“All right, come in.” 

And so Bard got in the elusive elf's place, where he spent most of his time, where he lived practically all his life since the incident. Thranduil's quarters were bigger than anyone else's, spacious and ornate. The ceiling was higher than in other rooms, it was as if it four rooms put together. He had more space and also fancier things, like wine. Which was a luxury, but Thranduil was used to luxury – the didn't call him the royal for nothing. 

The elf in question was sitting in a big chair, and instructed Bard to sit in front of him, while pouring them both some wine. He was wearing some elegant yet comfortable white and pale brown clothes, and Bard was reminded of a forest in the fall. But he couldn't get distracted. 

“We need you back.” Bard said, going straight to the point after sipping his wine. No use trying small talk with a man like Thranduil. 

“I don't care what you need.” Thranduil said, solemn. 

The scars on the left side of his face were still visible, somehow still looking raw after all this time. The eye milky white and unmoving. That kaiju had really got him, but he still moved beautifully, and Bard knew that he would be a great ally if he came back, despite the physical shortcomings. He was certain of few things in his life, but you only had to see Thranduil's imposing frame and determined eyes to know how deadly he could be.

“Yes, you care” Bard answered, getting out the big guns to convince the elf. “You want to build a better world for your son and the others, I know it. That's why you still give orders, why you still live here. And I don't think the accident made you a worse pilot or would prevent you from being as good as you used to be. You probably don't either. If you could find someone to ride the Elvenking with....”

“I will not drift again.” He said, with a final tone. “That is out of the question.” 

“You would let the Elvenking rot in here, when it could so much good?”

“I already did my share – I fought, and I lost and I paid with tears and blood. I will not spend another moment of my time on that accursed fight.”

There was a moment of silence and they both drunk a bit in silence.

“Who did you have in mind for the Elvenking besides myself, anyways? Yourself?” Thranduil asked, seeming more intrigued than anything.

Bard tried to explain, feeling a bit awkward. This was a bad idea. He's going to life in my face.

“Yeah, well, Tauriel suggested it and it didn't seem so far-fetched. You see, I am not compatible with the other pilots and trainees mostly because of all the crap I carry with me. All the pain. Losing... her. Facing those fucking things. It's too much for them. But it won't be for you. You have lived through so much, you probably would understand and be able to deal with it.”

Thranduil scoffed.

“And don't you think I have enough with my own pain, Bowman? Why would I want yours too?”

It wasn't a simple question. Bard realised in that moment that going into the drift would mean seeing and feeling all Thranduil's grief. Which wasn't something he needed more of, his own mourning was almost overwhelming at times. But still, there was something bigger at stake – this was their chance to spare others the losses they'd suffered. This was their chance to prevent their children from having to live through what they had.

“Because you want to protect your son, and have him look up to you. You want him to look at you and see a hero. I want that too, I want the fight to be over by the time Sigrid is old enough to be a pilot. I want peace. We should do it... for them.”

Thranduil's expression softened, almost imperceptibly, but it had. His face was looking at his interlocutor's for once, not afraid to show the scars, as if trying to figure him out. Intense. The air of aloofness was still present but slightly minimised. Thranduil finished his wine, slowly, while Bard waited for an answer. For something that meant that he had swayed him, that the elf was convinced. 

Bard continued.

“We can end this fight together with the Elvenking, we can be allies in this. And we should.”

Thranduil sighed.

“Think about it.” Bard said, not wanting to pressure Thranduil too much. 

“I will.” 

When he got out, Bard breathed. He'd gone there, said everything he'd wanted to say, and maybe even started to convince an incredible pilot to drift with him. He smiled, and when he passed in front of that enormous silver Jaeger of Thranduil's he whispered.

“See you soon.”


	4. Beginning

A week passed and nothing. Maybe he hadn't been as convincing as he thought.

And then, one day, Thranduil called him, told him he wanted to see how he fought. What was his style – if they truly were compatible. They were both impressed with the other while fighting, even if they didn't mention it often. They had trained quite a lot, with different weapons, different techniques. Excelling at everything before taking the next step. 

Drifting for the first time had been a bit overwhelming (all the memories, all the pain, all the loss) but it didn't take them long to get used to it, get used to each other. They were both strong, ressourcelful, skilled in battle. They had a similar look of things, specially went it came to the kaijus and their mission. It was a good match, a great one, even. 

And then came the real test. Because like Thranduil had said, there wasn't just two of them in the mission: there was three. The Elvenking was not the most common of the Jaegers, in fact, it could be slightly unwelcoming. It would have to accept Bard the same way Thranduil had, if this was to work. 

The science team was creating a device, some sort of long range Kaiju-deactivator that would killed the beasts instantly if they managed to get it right. But there was still a lot of work to be done. They needed time to to do it properly, to making it work the way it was needed to work. Still, it gave the poeple on the Shatterdome hope, which was always a good thing.

The next week Thranduil spent teaching Bard the complexities and little tricks of his Jaeger, all the weapons available, the way you had to move to make it function efficiently. You had to be more gracful and careful that Bard had ever been, but he learnt. Thranduil was a good teacher, and was becoming more fond of the bowman than he'd ever been. 

They had so much in common...

The first time they went back to battle the Kaiju was gone in less than thirty minutes. They knew what to do and performed perfectly. Both pilots and the Jaegers worked with precision, went for the kill with no hesitation. They made it look almost easy, effortless. They had made the Elvenking shine again.

They celebrated with wine afterwards, in the rooftops. Just the two of them. Smiles and wine and old stories of success and of his kids. Thranduil didn't like to talk about his time as a pilot much because of how badly it ended, but he was getting there. He felt at ease with Bard. He truly was an ally in battle. 

It was that night when realised that he liked Thranduil as more than a friend and co-pilot. That he wanted to see him every moment of the day and night. That he thought about the elf more often than not, that he had become more important than anyone else in the program. That he fantasised about raising the kids with him. This had to stop.

But he wouldn't dare act on those feelings, not when Thranduil still couldn't speak of his late wife. He knew that kind of grief. He knew that it didn't leave room for anything else. And he knew Thranduil wouldn't be willing to enter in any relationship – not now, it was still too soon. 

And two weeks after, there they were on the Elvenking, fighting a fire breather. They were handling it relatively nicely, but something was wrong. Bard could feel that something wasn't right. Still, priority number one now was ending that beast, he would figure out the problem later. 

After some minor setbacks and the having the shields of the Jaeger almost eliminated, they ended killing the kaiju with a combination of explosives and poison. It had been difficult, and had taken more time than usual, but they had done, and the damage to the Elvenking was fixable, so in the end, everything had gone right. 

But when they got out, Thranduil quickly disappeared, and wasn't present when everyone was congratulating them. Odd. He usually enjoyed these moments, all the praise from others. After some greetings and thank yous, Bard went looking for him. He wasn't in his room, or with the Jaeger or in any of his usual spots. 

Bard finally found him on the rooftops, but he looked most unlike himself. He was hunched against the corner, eyes unfocused, seeming smaller than usual. His right cheek was wet, his good eye still bright with tears. 

Bard approached softly, making sure his co-pilot knew he was there.

“Hey... Are you okay?”

“Leave. Please." Thranduil said, but his voice was broken and low.

Bard didn't want to leave. Not when his partner was obviously suffering. The moments when Thranduil let go of his unfeeling façade were few, and for good and for bad, Bard wanted to be in them. He wanted to know this man. But Thranduil hated it, hated that this great man was seeing him at his lowest, was seeing him weak, pathetic. No. 

Bard was trying to figure out the cause of Thranduil's distress when it came to him.

“Did you have flashbacks? Did you remember... that day? Is that it?"

Thranduil didn't answer, but something in his eyes told Bard he'd guessed correctly. And he knew how he felt because he too remembered sometimes that fateful day when their peace was destroyed and felt like it was happening all over again. Felt the same fear.

“It's hard, I know. If you ever need anything, I'm here."

Bard sat down next to the blonde elf, hoping to offer some reassurance.

“I should have saved her." Thranduil said. “I should have found her at least... I..."

Well, there was no way Bard was going to tolerate this. No way in hell. He knew how pointless and unfair it was to blame yourself of someone else's death. It didn't do justice to the memory of those they lost, and only served to further the pain. 

“Don't you dare blame yourself. You were bleeding out in the ocean for god's sakes. There is only culprit of what happened to her and to you and it”s the kaiju. The same kind of kaiju you are fighting every day.”

He got closer and wiped the lone tear that had made its way on Thranduil's cheek. Still, his eyes were downcast, clouded. The blue one and the white one.

“Look at me, Thranduil.”

With some reluctance, he did. He was after all, a very proud elf.

“It was not your fault. It will never be your fault.”

Thranduil looked at his partner's eyes. So much warmth and concern. It was nice. Maybe too nice.  
Bard smiled softly.

“You know, we still haven't celebrated this last victory properly...Would you come down with me, maybe have some wine?”

“Only because it's you, Bard Bowman. Only because it's you.”

Maybe the world wasn't as dark and Thranduil had thought it to be. Maybe he could see light again.

Light after the darkness.


	5. Smaug

Bard didn’t exactly know in which moment he’d fallen so deeply in love with his co-pilot. 

Perhaps it was when Thranduil directed at him one of those rare smiles while in battle. Perhaps it was they were having dinner in his quarters with the kids, and the blond put aside his cold façade to be kind and warm with them. Perhaps it was time he broke down and shown that behind that impenetrable exterior he too, was vulnerable. 

But it had to stop. They were trying to save the planet from giant monsters, for god’s sakes. This was no time for a schoolboy crush. But still, there were some moments in which Thranduil shared his sarcasms with him, or sought him out with some Jaeger-related excuse and Bard felt he had a chance of doing something more than piloting with that man. 

And he wanted it, he really really wanted it. It had been so long, so terribly long. And it had been a long while for Thranduil, too, Bard was sure they could both benefit from some intimacy. Yet, something was always holding them back. There was a reason why they hadn’t been with anyone in all those years - and it was not just impending apocalypse. Bard and Thranduil had both lost, and been scarred by that loss, being shaped by it. 

And if they got close to someone else, they could lose them too. And that was something neither of them wanted to go through, ever again. Increasingly often, when Bard had nightmares, he saw Thranduil being killed in battle. He watched his lifeless body in his dreams, and that image was scarier than any kaiju he’d ever faced. No. Thranduil could not die. He had to be immortal, he had to be there, by his side, always. He would walk the earth for thousands of years, regaling everyone with his everlasting beauty. Yes. 

One day Bard went to have breakfast and found Thranduil having a fight with another one of the pilots, Thorin Oakenshield, which was not good because Oakenshield and his partner, Bilbo Baggins, were front and centre in everything. Which meant that if they were on the outs, it probably wouldn’t be good for them. Thranduil stormed off and Bard went to talk with the man, but the bearded guy was being unreasonable, and not letting them in the plans or anything. Well, screw him. 

Bilbo tried to fix things a bit, said that Thorin wasn’t himself lately. Still, because Thorin disliked his partner so much, they had become the last ones to be called every time there was an incident.  
Until a day when a massive red kaiju rose from the ocean and they were called, expected to perform their job flawlessly, as usual. It was a bloodbath. This kaiju was wreaking havoc with everything, completely destroying what was left of Laketown. Thranduil and Bard watched some great buildings fall, collapse to the ground. And then, when they thought they were winning, the kaiju simply fell into them and it was darkness. Bard knew no more. 

When he woke up again, feeling sore all over, he realised he was no longer in the Elvenking but in the medbay. He saw his children all around the bed, looking at him. 

“Da! You’re awake!” Yes, he had survived, which was good. Probably only a handful of them could had made it out alive of that hellish battlefield. He was all right, his children were safe. He’d lived to see another day.

Other people hadn’t probably been so lucky if they had been in the same situation. Which reminded him of his partner. What had become of Thranduil? He was probably all right, he’d been next to Bard, and he had been survived with only bruises. 

But then a voice spoke to him and Bard’s world fell apart. 

“Has anyone seen my father?” 

That was Legolas. That was Legolas’ voice wondering where his father was. Bard looked around but couldn’t find him. Why wasn’t he next to Bard if they’d been taken out of the Jaeger at the same time? He should be there, with him. If he hadn’t been hurt he would have gone to Legolas immediately. But if he had been hurt, why wasn’t he around? 

Shit, shit, shit. 

The memories of his nightmares came back too clearly. What if he was gone? It would be his fault, Bard’s fault and no one else’s. He had been the one to convince Thranduil to go back to field, him and him alone. No. He didn’t want to fight without him by his side. He needed to see his face again, hear his voice. 

This couldn’t be the end. 

No. 

Bard got up, ignoring his achy body and walked up to Legolas. 

“I’m gonna go find your father. You stay here with Sigrid, ok?”

The memory of the moments before he blacked out came back to Bard. That kaiju had practically mashed the Elvenking and its contents. It was nothing short of miraculous that he’d made it out virtually unscathed, what where the chances of his co-pilot being alive too?

No.

I can’t lose you too

Thranduil was an immortal being of grace and light, they wouldn’t take him away from him like they took her, no they couldn’t, they just. 

There are so many things I need to tell you.

Bard’s eyes where shining when he found him. Thranduil had his arm in a sling, a series of bloody gashes under his good eye and one of the legs of his pants was bloody, but he was there, alive and functioning, asking one of the nurses to get his son. He was not gone.

And then Thranduil saw him and his expression softened. 

“Bard.” He breathed. “I’m so glad, they wouldn’t tell me anything and…”

Bard just threw himself at him, and embraced him. He wanted to feel the rise and fall of his chest. Hear the heartbeat. He was alive, he hadn’t lost him and he would still be there for a long time. His co-pilot was a survivor, just like him. He was warm and alive and Bard hadn’t been so glad to be able to touch someone’s hair in decades. He was there, he was alive. It was all that mattered.  
Thranduil, although surprised, returned the hug, lost himself in his partner’s embrace. 

“I thought you were gone. I thought I had lost you. I was so scared.” Bard whispered in Thranduil’s hair.

Thranduil broke away and looked at him, solemn. 

“I’m here. We’re both here. We made it.”

They stared at each other for a bit, marvelling on the sight of the other. And then leant in and kissed, kissed forever, kissed all those repressed feelings, kissed and kissed again.

Kissed the pain away


	6. The final battle

There were seven of them, seven of them at the same time and it felt like the world was about to end. Seven kaijus on the same place, near a heavily populated area. The evacuation was going as fast as possible, but something had to be done – those kaijus were too dangerous. So practically all the pilots were sent there, obviously. Every working Jaeger was sent to the site – to fight seven different monsters with seven different skills sets. 

They thought they could win, at first. The pilots thought they had the upper hand, they thought that although it was going to be difficult, they would be victorious. They just needed some time until the science team perfected the way to get rid of them once and for all. One last job, one final big job and then they could finally be safe. Forever. 

The elvenking was working as efficiently as usual, killing two kaijus in the first fifteen minutes. Bard and Thranduil even thought at some point that this mission was going to end quickly, what with the help of the others pilots. It should have been. It could have been. They saw their companions bringing down the other kaijus and thought that they were going home soon, to their families. But things are never that easy. Never.

Beforre they knew, the Durin Menace fell down on the ground, and never got back up. Never. And then, after what seemed like no time at all, Bard and Thranduil were practically the only ones remaining. And there were still two kaijus up and giving them hell. The elvenking was strong, but not strong enough. It was fast, but not fast enough. Because the attention of both monsters was now directed at the silver Jaeger and that threat that had destroyed so many of them. The threat that had turned its brothers and sisters into corpses. They were angry. It showed.

Bard and Thranduil found themselves almost being unable to dodge the blows, losing shielding capacity little by little. The Jaeger had only been released from the shop after being repaired and some things were still in a bit of a delicate condition. They tried to end them, go for kill with either one because they couldn't hold much longer, but it was no use. When they tried to send an explosion in the direction of one of them the other hit the Jaeger from behind and made them change the course. 

They were being hit everywhere. So although they were trying, at lightning speed, to think of strategies to get rid of those monsters, all their plans were dismantled by the kaijus. Each and every one of them. They tried arrows and the arrows were dodged. They tried fire and ran out of gas before doing any damage. They tried so many things, and only managed to piss the kaijus even more. What was worse, they were running out of ammunition of all sorts. The hardly had anyhing left, and even though the Elvenking was full of little tricks, some things were not working after the red Kaijus attack. Simply not working – which was extremely unfortunate, given the circumstances. 

Bard was focused on their task and tried not to fall into despair. Because it would be easy to do so. To think that the kaijus would finally get the best of them, that this was the end. To think that he would never see his children grow, never see their faces again. Never what would become of them, how would their lives turn out to be. He didn't want to think of Thranduil dying alongside him – never seeing him again either.It hurt, it hurt more than it should. 

So he kept fighting, hoping this next blow would make things better, change things, give them an edge. Something. They needed to win, there was no toher option. They were already almost out of pilots, what would happen if those two kaijus defeated them too and they got loose. There would be no one to stop them. The destruction and the lives lost would be worse than ever before. They would have fought and lost so much and all for nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Thranduil kept hoping. He needed to have hope, he needed not to think but to know that they would be victorious. This couldn't be the end. This couldn't be their end. After they had sacrificed so much, after losing so much, there needed to be something better than dying at the hands of the last kaijus. He wasn't going to leave his son a complete orphan. They would win this somehow, they would get through it all. They had to make it, for the sake of everyone. To save the world, not to mention themselves. 

And it was not fair that they would be cheated of the resolution of the whole Kaiju conflict, that they wouldn't get to see that device go off and the kaijus forever disappear. It was almost painful, after how big this event had been in their lives. How major. 

So they kept fighting. They were tired and the Elvenking was oh-so-damaged but they continued, while those kaijus growled and grabbed them everywhere. They needed something almost miraculous by this point – like one of their fallen comrades rising up again, helping to finally kill those beasts and finish the fight, this fight that had started so nicely but was now feeling eternal. This horrible never-ending, frustrating fight. A fight that they were losing. 

No matter what they wanted to think, they were losing. 

It was very clear now. This was proably their last day, their lasts moments. Bard regretted not having met Thranduil sooner, not having reached out. He wished they'd had more time, eternal nights and days of being together, of looking att each other. Longs months and years of intimacy they were now being robbed of. It was so unfair. Thranduil regretted not having acted on his feelings sooner. Regretted all the time he spent locked up in that room, not letting anyone in, not letting himself out. Things could have been so much better if he hadn't let the pain get the best of him. 

But now, the only thing Thranduil could do was hope that at least Bard would be safe. He would take care of Legolas, he was sure. And they would be a big family, Legolas and Bard and his kids. Because Bard deserved to live. The world couldn't be that cruel and take him away too. No, Bard was going to survive, like he had once done when all hope seemed lost. They had found him and he had recovered, and Bard would too. He wished he could there with him. He wished this nightmare to be finally over. 

One of the arms of the Elvenking flew away, tore apart by one of the kaijus, that were injured, but never weakened. All the systems of the Jaeger was failing now, and the shields were almost gone. Then a chunk of the silver armour flew too, making a terrible sound as it reached the ground. And then one giant claw made its way through the Elvenking and eveything went dark. The robot fell into the ground, with a thud and the pilots in it, knew only darkness. 

They fell from their places and hit the floor, bainging themselves. 

The kaijus saw that the enemy had been finally defeated and moved on to other areas. People in HQ saw with horror how the Elvenking fell, how all was apparently lost. And that was a cry of Eureka filled the air because the kaiju-deactivator was finnally finished and ready to use. It was going to be over really soon. 

They sent some helicopters to the site where the battle have been, to retrieve the wounded, and those pilots that unfortunately were beyond help. They also retrieved the Jaegers because those robots were heroes too. They'd done they best they could. Thye were lucky enough to find some of the pilots still alive, even if no one was in great shape. 

And then, that thing went off. The deactivator, the device, the final solution, whatever it was called it was turned on, and went off and those last two kaijus of the seven that had mysteriously appeared fell down promptly, lifeless, with a thud. They weren't certain, but some people claimed that heard the echo of a similar one from below the ground, from somewhere deep beneath the surface.

Disoriented like he hadn't been before, Thranduil thought he saw a light. White light that covered everything. And he wanted to be one with light. 

White.

Light.

White.

Light.

White.

Light.


	7. A new world

The deactivating device worked perfectly. The dead kaijus never stirred again and for days, there was no trace of activity, no indication that it could happen again. It was strangely peaceful and quiet, for a while – people didn't want to be excited only to have their happiness blown up by another attack. But then a week passed and then two, the device went off again (just in case) and it was clear that they had won. That it was over. 

The celebrations began everywhere, feast and music and happy faces commemorating the end of the danger, the end of the fear, and the heroes that had gotten them such a great moment. It was a moment of joy, of planning a new life now that they didn't have to fear for their lives every single day, fear that they wouldn't make it to the next day, fear they could lose everything. No, this was again a safe world, a new world, in which they could try to raise families, be succesful in some discipline or other, make new friends, get angry at people, explore. The inhabitants of Middle Earth had their lives back, simply put. 

The monsters had not won.

The apocalypse had been cancelled.

Things weren't so cheerful in the Shatterdome, despite their victory. Yes, they'd done what they were supposed, they'd won and proved their use, it was victory, indeed, but they had lost so many people. Pilots and technicians and even some of the Jaegers, gone forever. So many people, so many smiles that they wouldn't see ever again. The Durins were all gone. There was only Bilbo left, trying to contain his sorrow with Tauriel. 

Bard had been in a very delicate situation, too. There had been surgery and scars and defibrilators. There had been moments when the medics almost told the kids to say goodbye to their father. But he had pulled through. Against all odds, he had kept breathing, out of sheer willpower maybe, but he hax survived. And ten days after the last battle he opened his eyes, only to see the smiling faces of his kids surrounding him. 

It was a magic moment. Seeing Sigrid, Bain and Tilda smiling at him, joy in their eyes. Hugging them again. Knowing that he would live and his children with him. Learning that the kaijus were finally gone, that they could breathe again, that they could live again, that all the effort had indeed paid off. Knowing that they had a chance now, to start over together. They had won. No more fear, no more danger. 

But there was someone missing.

“Where is Thranduil?”

The kids' faces dropped a little, became slightly darker and more silent. Bard feared the worst and ran to his find co-pilot. 

He wasn't dead, but he was in some sort of coma. Asleep, in that big white bed, like some kind of sleeping beauty. The medics told him that they had fixed all of his injuries and that they didn't know what he hadn't woken up. He simply hadn't. He wouldn't wake up, just lay there peacefully, and let the time pass. The medical personnel had tried all sort of things to bring him back: athelas, magic spells, all and any forms of healing they knew. But Thranduil remained there, in his bed, unmoving, like a white statue. 

Legolas was beside him, hoping for a change. He spoke to his father often, to see if he could get him to react, say something, do something. But nothing. Thranduil was far away, and nothing could apparently get him back to them. Back to the waking world. And Bard caressed the soft but too cold cheek with sorrow, because the new world wasn't all that good if he didn't have Thranduil to share it with him. 

“Damn it!”

It all had seemed so perfect. The kaijus were gone, the kids were okay... Why would Thranduil do this to him? Why would he spoil this new world so badly? Why couldn't he ever had happiness? Bard felt as if the world was playing a cruel joke on him, showing how great he and Thranduil could have been and then taking him away.

But no, he couldn't think like that. Thranduil wasn't dead. He was simply taking longer to wake up. And he would wake up, yes, no matter how desperate the situation seemed. Just like on the battle, when everything had seemed hopeless but they had managed to win in the end. And managed to survive against all the horror that had surrounded them. They were alive. Bard just had to be patient to get his partner back. Just be patient. 

Life continued. The Jaegers and the armours were given to a foundation so they would do some sort of museum of the program. Never to forget what had happened. Never to forget all the hard work of the members of the Jaeger program, of all kinds. Never to forget all the sacrifice and loss, all they honourable ladies and gents that had given their lives.

Bard and the kids moved to a better house and he got a post in Dale's government – a nice position that gave him the power to change things for people that had been victims of the attacks, people who were in bad situations. The kids made new friends in Dale, and they had adopted Legolas as the fourth sibling without much trouble. 

There was a white room where Thranduil continued to sleep. He had slept for months, and continued to do so. Now that he had some money, Bard had brought the best healers of Middle earth, but nothing. He stayed there, motionless, perfect as ever. Sometimes Bard went to the white room and slept next to him, finding comfort in his presence. He spoke to him every day, even if nothing interesting had happened. He just wished Thranduil would answer, but it was more and more difficult to keep being hopeful.

On the museum of the Jaeger program there was an entire room dedicated to them, the Elvenking and its pilots, himself and Thranduil and Thranduil's late wife. Pictures of themselves getting ready, with their pilot gear, or recovering after battle. Panels explaining the different people that had piloted it. Bard had been there when the museum opened and had hoped Thranduil would be by his side, awakened at last of that eternal sleep. No such luck. 

A lot of people asked him about Thranduil, about where he was, why he hadn't come, that they hadn't heard of his death so they wondered why he hadn't been at any of the celebrations, or in the museum or in the funeral commemoration acts for the other pilots. (Bilbo had gone back to the Shire, not wanting to be surrounded by memories of former partner – which was perfectly understandable.) So Bard had to explain that he wasn't dead – just impeded to move. He is still recovering, he would say, not wanting to hear other peoples sad comments and condolences. He wasn't dead. He was just taking longer to recover from the battle. That was it.

By the one year anniversary of the final battle, Bard had sadly lost almost all of his hope of having Thranduil back. He used the occasion to say one last goodbye to the pilots and techs he'd known, however briefly. And with a heavy heart, he also said goodbye to his former lover and partner. It was probably the better thing to do. He wept bitterly on Thranduil's bedside that night, damning him for not waking up and then tried to let go of his anger and sorrow. 

He had lost Thranduil like he had lost his wife. This realisation got him free somehow, but also sad. Bard just missed him. All of him. From thinly veiled sarcasm to the undying determination, from the way he moved his hands when he spoke to the milky white eye. All of him. 

But he had lost all hope. 

Life went on. The kids told him that maybe it would be good for him to find someone else, to find love again. But Bard couldn't - he just couldn't look at anyone anymore. He'd been blessed to find love twice, and both times he'd lost them. He would rather stay with his memories, precious memories of battle and wine and good days. He couldn't move on because he didn't want to move on.

“You have ruined me, Thranduil.” He said one day, while he was looking through the window of the white room. “You have ruined me for everyone.”

“Now... that is.....not... the thing...one li-likes to hear... when he wakes up...”

Bard felt like his heart had stopped beating for a minute. 

“Thranduil?”

His eyes were open. His eyen were OPEN. 

“I... feel like...I slept...for a thousand... years. What did I miss?”

There were so many things Bard wanted to say. I have missed you so much. I thought you were dead. Life was so grey without you. I need you more than I knew possible. Don't fucking do that to me again. I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU. Everything makes sense again now that you're back – please never go again...... 

But there would be time for that. Now they had all the time in the world. Bard's eyes watered, his whole being almost exploding with joy, when he finally said.

“We won, Thranduil.... we have truly won.”

And Bard kissed the elf and everything was suddenly as it should have been.

A new, better world. A world in which they were together – finally.

No more pain. No more loss.

After everything, they had survived.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! All feedback very welcome!


End file.
